


Shelf Space II

by Fishwichformylove



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fic Collection, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Prompt Fic, Romance, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-26 03:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14991701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwichformylove/pseuds/Fishwichformylove
Summary: Part II of my collection of ficlets, mini-fics, one-shots, drabbles, tumblr prompts, and requests, all revolving around USUKUS. Rating and content will vary with each chapter.Part I ended at 50 chapters, since I felt that was a manageable size. I know some people post every little story separately, but that doesn't appeal to me. I realize many readers do not like collections, but I hope if you give Part I and Part II a chance, you will find something you enjoy.





	1. First Time (I Heard Your Voice)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: First time
> 
> This is most certainly not what the requester, usukes, meant. 
> 
> Anyway. Whoops. So I’ve been listening to Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 recently, and my brain filled in the rest of the line from the song "No One Else" when I read prompt. 
> 
> The fic is only tangentially related/inspired. 
> 
> Human college AU, Nyotalia/Fem!USUKUS (implied, I suppose) 
> 
> Rating: K+/T for mentions of alcohol?

A blast of thick, damp air hit Alice’s face as she pushed open the bathroom door. There was a vaguely fruity scent in the air, and the echoing artificial rainfall of the shower, but other than that the dorm bathroom was empty. Alice was grateful for the almost solitude.

She went to one of the sinks and ran the cold water, wetting her hands and pressing them to her cheeks to wake herself up. There was still a long night of studying ahead, and caffeine had lost it’s zing several bitter coffees ago. She rubbed her eyes and appraised herself disinterestedly in the mirror, discolored by the flourescent lights, smoothing her hair down out of habit.

The mirror reflected back the wide tile archway behind her that led to the shower area, and she caught just a glimpse of a light blue towel hanging from a peg on a stall door and of a pair of hands stretching into the air behind it. The hands waved and wiggled around for a moment before disappearing. Whoever was in there was clearly enjoying themselves. The amount of steam and heat coming out of the archway was shocking considering only one stall was running. But late at night was probably the best time to get all the hot water, and Alice certainly couldn’t blame whoever it was for wanting the peace and quiet.

Alice ran the water and splashed her face one more time before reaching for the paper towel dispenser. That was when the humming began. So light at first that Alice wasn’t sure if it was real, then wondered if it wasn’t coming through the cracked-open window high on the wall, someone walking down the alley behind the dorm and singing to themselves. But the humming grew and blossomed and echoed, nothing self-conscious about it. Just the pure absentminded joy of singing in the shower. And Alice’s heart nearly stopped.

It felt like an invasion of privacy, something illicit and secret that she was ruining by standing there listening to it. But it sounded so tender and sweet and lovely that she couldn’t make herself move. The row of mirrors were starting to fog up subtly around the edges, the occasional chilly bit of air from the window making the wisps disappear for just a second. It made the back of Alice’s neck tingle, even as her face got hot.

The humming transformed into wordless singing, no discernible tune or meaning, just meandering notes floating up and over and out of the showers. Nonsense syllables lined up like so many pearls on a string. No, less tangible than that, real but not solid, like moonlight. They seemed to invade Alice, sinking in through her skin and being sucked into the sudden vacuum in her chest. She felt lightheaded, and backed her way trippingly toward the wall to sit on the low wooden bench there. Solid wood beneath her and the cold tile behind her grounded her for moment before she found herself utterly distracted again.

Maybe she was just exhausted, brain fried and susceptible to foolishness from hours of staring at tiny print on a page. Maybe she’d been lonelier than she’d realized. Maybe there was magic in this, a spell being cast by accident, forgotten but viscerally ingrained enough to be stumbled upon by some stranger in the shower. Alice couldn’t even bring herself to guess at who it could be. Knowing would make her real, and if she was real, Alice would have to contend with the very real desire gnawing at her. She felt collapsed and spacious all at once, roomy and full, like she was imploding and ready to take flight. It made her feel good in a way she didn’t think she’d ever experienced before.

She’d drawn one foot up onto the bench and circled her arms around her leg at some point, grinning like a loon into the fabric of her pajama pants over her knee. She would have stayed like that for as long as the water and voice echoed if the door to the bathroom hadn’t banged open like a cannon blast. Four girls stumbled in, three supporting one who was clearly drunk, all limbs and glitter and jewel tones and wild hair. Alice stood up, and pretended to go back to the sink, certain she’d been caught in her wierd eavesdropping. But the girls paid her no mind and disappeared behind the center wall of the bathroom, to the side with the stalls and another row of sinks. Alice faked washing her hands and listened as one of them helped the drunk one as she vomited noisily into a stall. The other two cooed soft encouragments. The singing was gone.

Just like that, it was only a bathroom again. The steam wasn’t ethereal, it was just hot and cloying. The scent of the mysterious singer’s soap wasn’t enticing, just oppressive and cheap smelling. The bursts of air from the window weren’t refreshing, just cold. Add to that the sound of retching and coughing, and the magic was thoroughly dissolved

Alice heard the shower shut off and a stall door creak behind her, and the mirror reflected an arm snaking out to grab the fluffy blue towel. Alice looked away, blushing even though there was no way she could have seen the stranger’s nakedness through such a small opening of the door. She kept her head down as she rushed out of the bathroom, passing the other girls as they finished playing nurse and giggled and squawked and chatted.

She didn’t dare look behind her as she walked briskly down the hall. It was tempting to just run for her door, embarrassment and exhilarition sitting equally in her stomach. But she felt obligated to maintain some level of dignity and made her pace as close to normal as she could bear. She even managed to resist the urge to look back when she heard the bathroom door open and the sound of flip flops walking toward the opposite end of the dorm hall.

It had been a moment. That was all. A missed connection, maybe. But a connection to what? Some girl she didn’t know anything about, and who didn’t know she existed, and probably would have been bothered by her presence? It wasn’t romantic. It was delusional.

But that didn’t stop her from checking for that blue towel every time she went for a shower.


	2. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's given Alfred a ride home many times. But today ends up a little different. Okay, a lot different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Empressvegah on tumblr requested "USUK human au, friends to lovers". You can also call this a high school au, though I never really get clear about their exact ages here.

“Thanks for the ride, again. I swear I’m gonna get my license soon. Just as soon as I, y’know—“

“Stop having a meltdown every time you turn the car on?”

Arthur had said it with a smile, but Alfred fiddled with his baseball cap, wringing it in his hands and flipping it a few times.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

From his hunched shoulders and flat tone, Arthur could tell that he’d struck a nerve. For all his boisterous, outgoing ways, Alfred could be quite sensitive. Arthur was still learning to navigate that

“Don’t apologize, I was only teasing. You’ll be ready when you’re ready.”

“Hmm.”

“And I like driving you,” Arthur added, hoping it sounded casual enough.

Alfred still didn’t look at him, but he relaxed and hung his hat on his knee and set to fiddling with the air conditioning. The familiarity was nice, and at least he wasn’t trying to control the radio like he usually was.

Arthur smiled to himself as he saw Alfred lean his head against the window out of the corner of his eye. The picturesque neighborhood melted around them, neat houses indistinguishable and uninteresting in the bright afternoon heat, but still charming in their own cookie cutter way.

“I could teach you, if you like.”

Alfred snorted at that and righted himself in his chair before slumping down and trying to get both his feet on the dashboard. He knew Arthur hated that, and Arthur knew he was being goaded.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna take lessons from the guy who drives on the wrong side.”

“Oh, please. Do you see me doing that now? My driving credentials are all-American, thank you very much,” Arthur quipped, and reached across to smack Alfred’s leg down.

“Sure, sure, but it’s in your blood.” Alfred took one foot off the dash, but kept his far one up, daring Arthur to reach for it without swerving the car. “I’ll take my chances with dad. Or Matt. Not sure which one will be less yelling, honestly.”

“I’ve never heard your brother say anything above a whisper.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because he’s still terrified of you. He doesn’t have a problem whoopin’ up on me.”

“Terrified? Why?”

Alfred slumped further down, and put his baseball cap on backwards, low over his forehead like he was trying to hide his eyes. Arthur waited patiently for an answer, but Alfred took his phone out and started scrolling and typing, or at least pretending to. Arthur was going to repeat his question, when Alfred interrupted.

“Because he has a little crush on you.”

“What, really? Since when?”

Alfred made an irritated sound and sat up, taking his foot off the dash and tossing his phone into his backpack. He pulled his jeans down at the knees where they had bunched up and took far too long smoothing them, then looked at the mirror on the visor on his side and set to fixing his hair and hat.

“Since forever? Don’t act surprised. Everyone has a crush on you,” he said while fussing over his reflection, sounding bored.

“No, not everyone.”

_Not you_ , Arthur thought, and then felt incredibly stupid for having thought it.

“Yes, everyone. Literally everyone.”

“Hmm,” was all Arthur could manage. He couldn’t process that and drive, and be this close to Alfred all at once.

“Hmm,” Alfred repeated in a mocking, serious tone, and then fell silent again.

They were passing the big park near Alfred’s house now. It was a popular hang out spot, soccer pitch on one end, a baseball diamond on the other, and a playground made of neon plastic on the far side. But no one was out now. It was too hot, the fields wilted and dusty, and the plastic playground nearly molten and shimmering. It was lonely in a beautiful way, and made their little metal pod of air-conditioned togetherness seem suddenly smaller and more intimate. Arthur’s rumination was interrupted as he caught Alfred looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He had lolled his head back on the rest and turned his face toward Arthur, studying him with an expression that was so blank it was clear he was thinking _something_. Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted to know what.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Cuz there’s nothing better to look at. All the grass is dead.”

It was hardly a come-on, but something about it made Arthur feel awkward and restless.

“Well, I’m better than dead grass, at least.”

“Infinitely.”

It was said so precisely that Arthur could imagine the shape Alfred’s lips made around the word without having seen it. He didn’t know what had gotten into him suddenly to make him think like that, and it didn’t help that Alfred was still looking at him lazily. Arthur decided to ignore it and focus on the road. It seemed to work, and Alfred went back to sitting normally and looking out the window. Somehow that also wasn’t what Arthur wanted.

They rounded the corner of Alfred’s street, and Arthur slowed down more than he had to just to get a few more seconds in. He parked against the sidewalk of Alfred’s house and turned to look at Alfred, forcing a cheerful expression.

“Well. Bye.”

His voice sounded wrong to himself, and apparently to Alfred as well, who looked at him strangely and half laughed as he gathered up his backpack.

“You’re so weird.”

“How am I weird? I just said goodbye.”

“You just are. The weirdest.”

Arthur could tell he meant it as something close to a compliment, but it didn’t feel very much like one as his face heated up. Alfred waited for him to reply, and when nothing came he rolled his eyes and put his arm out for as much of a hug goodbye as could be managed in a car. This was usual, at least, and Arthur didn’t think twice about the clumsy side-squeeze. It was uncomfortable and quick, the side of Alfred’s glasses banging against Arthur’s cheek, Arthur’s seatbelt clicking and straining and tightening him back into his seat.

Then, as they pulled apart, with all the casualness in the world, Alfred brushed his lips against Arthur’s. It took a moment for Arthur to even register the action, it had felt so natural, a predictable extension to their hug. And Alfred wasn’t even questioning it, turning immediately to open the car door and get out.

“Bye,” he said, and Arthur couldn’t reply.

Alfred stepped out of the car and got his backpack on, facing away from Arthur’s mounting crisis, and he was just about to step up onto the sidewalk and close the door when he went stiff.

“Oh.”

Slowly he turned around and ducked his head back to look into the car, Arthur still frozen with his seatbelt straining to pull him back. Alfred was confused and smiling and he sat on the curb and leaned against the open door.

“Oh, shit.”

“I—“

“Yeah?” Alfred was smiling. Arthur had no clue what his own face was doing.

“I—“

“What? You what?”

“I… don’t know.” Arthur had to laugh because it was the truth, and because he was so nervous and giddy that some sort of sound just had to come out of him.

Alfred beamed at him for another few seconds, then stood up and stepped back, slamming the door. It shocked Arthur into sitting upright, broke the spell and made him put his hands on the steering wheel as if he was going to drive away right that moment. He watched as Alfred walked around the front of the car, and then stood next to Arthur’s side. He bent over and rapped his knuckles against the glass.

“Unroll the window.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Arthur did as he was told, unsure of what was going to happen, hoping for nothing and everything. A hot blast of air hit him as Alfred braced his forearms on the bottom of the window frame, then reached one hand out to guide Arthur’s face to his and kiss him again. It was absolutely on purpose this time, and Arthur didn’t have the sense to let go of the steering wheel, twisting weirdly over this shoulder to let himself be kissed. Alfred’s hand moved from his cheek to back of his head, half caress, half trying to pull him closer, and Arthur let himself relax into it.

He had almost gotten the hang of it when Alfred changed the angle completely and it caught him so off guard the his hand slid off the steering wheel and smacked against the horn. The short, sharp blast startled them both, and Arthur clutched his hands to his chest. Alfred had backed away from the noise and was now standing in the middle of the street, facing away with his hands on top of his head, shoulders visibly shaking with laughter.

He gathered himself and returned to Arthur’s window, leaning over into it again. Arthur shamelessly moved toward him again, not at all ready to talk about what had happened, but completely ready to be kissed again. Alfred let him get close, but didn’t make a move.

“Bye. Thanks for the ride, again,” he said, crisply and carefully, and Arthur got the thrill of watching his mouth do it. Embarrassingly, Arthur leaned in and Alfred stood up and stepped back.

“Drive safe.”

He patted the roof of the car twice and then walked into the house, never once looking back, but a clear smile on his face. Arthur watched him go, feeling starved and satisfied and utterly confused.

It was nearly ten minutes before Arthur could trust himself to drive.

 


	3. Treasures Untold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred shares his latest discovery from the surface with Matthew, who isn't such a fan of dry land.... or the prince Alfred keeps talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> broe-v-wade on tumblr requested "little mermaid AU *eyes emoji*" because they love to vex me. 
> 
> This is the result. I guess.

“He’s not even that good looking,” Matthew said, draping himself on a large, flat stone and pulling at the sea grass growing around it. “There are better looking two-legs”

Alfred huffed as he yanked the heavy chest out from between the gnarled stands of eroding rock where he’d hidden it. They formed a small, shallow cave, big enough to hid his collection in, but small and ordinary enough that no one would ever go looking inside of it. It was his favorite spot, close enough to the surface that the light came through warm and bright, and far enough away from the palace that he could have his privacy. It felt safe and secret.

“Don’t start with me again. And don’t call them that.”

“Well there are.”

Matthew wasn’t trying to be mean, Alfred knew. He wasn’t at all curious about the world above the waters. Alfred had convinced him to go with him to the surface during the day once, and Matthew hadn’t been very impressed. He’d said it was dry and ugly and too bright. But Alfred saw so much beauty, so many new things to discover. Instead of responding to Matthew’s comment, he opened his treasure box and reverently dug through the contents.

“He doesn’t even look like he can swim very well,” Matthew added.

“He doesn’t have to,” Alfred snapped, then took a breath to calm himself. If he got too defensive, Matthew would tease him and threaten to tell about his crush. “He has his… ship,” he said grandly, savoring the word Gil had taught him for the human’s large wooden shadows that sat on top of the waves.

“They fall off sometimes and drown,” Matthew stated plainly, not even looking up as he braided strands of sea grass together before muttering under his breath, “He looks like he would drown.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen, I would save him.”

“You’d get in trouble with Papa.”

“He wouldn’t have to know. And you wouldn’t tell him, either,” Alfred said through his teeth, but Matthew seemed unfazed by the implied threat. He simply flipped his tail a few times, silver scales flashing a faint purple as the light hit them. Then he noticed what Alfred had in his hand.

“What are those?”

Alfred swam to him, twisting and turning just for the joy of it. He had been thrilled to have another item to add to his collection, especially such an odd looking one. It was two clear disks held together by strange, bent, thin metal. He held it out for Matthew to take, but Matthew clutched his grass braid to his chest and shook his head.

“It’s what I wanted to show you. One of the two-leg— _humans_ — dropped it yesterday. Slid right off his nose when he was looking over into the water. They wear it on their face.”

“Why?”

“I think it makes them see better, look.”

Matthew refused to take the thing, so Alfred simply shoved it onto his face, tucking the funny hooked ends over his ears so the clear parts sat in front of his eyes. The jostling caused Matthew’s golden hair to fluff and float in front of his face, and he sat still, like the treasure might come alive and bite him. When nothing happened, he sighed, squinting and unimpressed.

“Well it doesn’t really work down here. You have to be out of the water,” Alfred explained, taking the object off his nose and going to return it to his box, a little sad that Matthew hadn’t thought it was interesting. “Come up with me next time and see!”

“I won’t. I hate it up there.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Am not,” Matthew whined, tying the grass braid off and using it to keep his hair out of his face. He stuck his tongue out at Alfred, and Alfred responded in kind, then turned back to his collection.

He picked up his favorite possession, an oval shaped metal thing that opened and shut like a clam. On the outside the metal looked like some kind of coral, but different, softer and rounder. Gil said it was called a flower. Alfred clicked it open carefully, and brushed his fingers along the image inside. There was a piece of the clear stuff like on the face decoration he’d shown Matthew, but this disk was covering a drawing of the human Alfred couldn’t get out of his head. He had a pretty face, boyish but stern, with intense eyes and brows, and a mouth that was almost frowning. He looked serious and important, but there was something about his expression, a little spark of something mischievous that Alfred loved.

“I hope one of them drops the shiny tubes next. I see him using one, sometimes. The man, their leader. The handsome one.”

A prince, Alfred had heard him called, but still didn’t know his name. He ran his finger tip around the edge of the image.

“The ugly one,” Matthew corrected.

Alfred frowned and took one last look at the drawing. The little clear disk kept the sea water out mostly, but Alfred had noticed a tiny bit seeping in the last time he’d opened it. He knew if he kept looking at it, it would be ruined one day, so now he didn’t look at it unless he was feeling particularly desperate. He gently shut the metal flower clam and settled it carefully back into the box.

“I’ve seen him looking through it up to the far-lights when it’s dark. Gil says they’re called stars. I think the tube helps you see them better. I want to see them.”

“Why?”

Alfred didn’t know how to explain himself in a way that wouldn’t sound silly. He didn’t know how to articulate the ache in his chest that he felt whenever he looked up through the water at the sky, or spied on the pale sandy beaches, or watched the ship go by on its way to somewhere Alfred couldn’t even imagine. He didn’t know how to explain that he was drawn to the prince not just because he happened to think he was handsome, but because he was a symbol of all the places Alfred couldn’t go, the things he didn’t even know he hadn’t seen. The world was so much wider than just water, and the prince got to see it all, and Alfred wanted to see it with him.

“Why not?” was all he could muster, and it sounded childish.

“You’re going to get hurt chasing all these things. Everything is perfect down here, why do you want to ruin it?”

Again, he knew Matthew wasn’t trying to be cruel. He cared about Alfred, and Alfred knew Matthew worried about him. But it broke his heart to have his interests, his desires, dismissed so casually. Alfred’s eyes and chest burned as he shut the chest and started dragging it back to its hiding place.

“It might be perfect for you, but I hate it!”

“You don’t mean that,” Matthew said, kinder and softer now that he could probably hear the upset in Alfred’s voice. Even that felt too much like being babied and condescended to, and it made Alfred feel worse.

He finished hiding his treasure, and whirled around to Matthew, closing the distance between them in a flash and jabbing a finger in his face as he shouted, “I do! It’s awful and boring and I’d rather live up there with them than be stuck down here with all you cowards.”

“Alfred!”

He swam away as fast as he could, dodging rocks and coral, startling peaceful schools of fish and not at all caring who saw him in his tantrum. He swam until he came upon the darkened mass of a kelp forest, and settled himself in a swaying nest of the slick, cool stuff. He rubbed at his eyes and gazed up at the milky, wavering shafts of light coming through the brown and green, serene and insulated. Matthew would probably go back to the palace and tell their father about his running away, not because he wanted to get him in trouble, but because he was worried. He might not understand Alfred, but he never told on him about his collection or his visits to the surface.

He would have to go back soon. He was a prince himself. There was a certain way he had to act, certain responsibilities. But for the moment, Alfred sighed, imagining the human prince’s face once again, and hoping the shadow of a ship would soon pass by.

 

 


End file.
